Title: The Devil We Know

Summary: Christine Daae is the daughter of a recently deceased mafia boss. Suddenly, she finds herself toted as an up and coming gang leader, learning from the Phantom, a man who is feared by even the most powerful in the field as a notorious hit man. Will Christine find the strength to carve her own path, disregarding both darkness and light? Raoul's in it too. I guess.

Disclaimer: Phantom isn't copywritten any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, and Raoul aren't my original characters.

Author's Note: Sara made this happen, since I got lost a lot writing it and she helped me brainstorm. She was like "what about that story you love working on?" and I was all "A-buh-WAH?" But it all worked out in the end.

Chapter Ten: Honor among Thieves

"So Christine, it's a table." Erik ran his hand along the wooden surface of the table he and Christine were sitting behind in the back of the club. "You know, it's kinda like that desk from your office."

"Yes, Erik, I can see that." Christine rolled her eyes and glanced around the busy nightclub. Meg gave her a questioning look, confused by his words. "He's been pointing out every table, desk, and counter since we got here."

Christine leaned close to Meg and whispered loudly, "Going senile."

"Oh," Meg nodded sympathetically and eyed Erik with exaggerated pity. He scowled in reply and she hastily left to tend a newly arrived customer. Laughing, Christine threw her arm around Erik's waist as they sat side by side in their seat behind the table. She planted a firm kiss to his cheek in hopes of dispelling his bad mood.

Despite his best efforts, the kiss softened his expression and brought a small smile to his lips. He hoped he wasn't losing his ability to scare everyone around him into doing what he wanted. Then again, Christine seemed to be immune to his death glares and threats. Not that he would ever use them against her seriously.

When Raoul walked in through the entrance, Erik could barely believe his eyes. Christine felt his back stiffen under her arm and she glanced up to find his entire being focused on the front door. Raoul seemed lost as Meg caught sight of him from her place as doorkeeper. She frowned at him and tried to usher him outside, but he stood in place stubbornly.

"Oh good God," Christine buried her face into the material of Erik's shirt as if to escape the contact embarrassment washing over her for Raoul. Erik continued to glare at him as he sidestepped Meg and hurried across the room. "He's coming over, isn't he?"

"Christine, I'm through giving this boy chances. Did his mother drop him on his head as a child?"

"Probably," she groaned and stood up from the seat. Erik eyed her cautiously as she approached the young man. Raoul looked relieved when she strode over to him, but grew confused when she pointed to the front door. "Out. Now."

"But, I'm-" Before he could get any further, she grabbed him by the tie and yanked him out the door behind her. Her heels clicked on the cement as she dragged him across the parking lot to a vacant area then shoved him away. He rubbed the back of his neck and demanded, "What's your problem?"

"My problem, Raoul?! I thought I made it clear to you last time! The only reason you aren't dead right now is because Erik actually gives a shit what I think," she snapped, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You, however, obviously don't give a second thought to anything I tell you. Is this case really worth dying over? Because you're walking a thin line right now!"

"I'm only worried about you!" he exclaimed, reaching for her. She stepped back out of the way, avoiding his embrace.

"I never asked you to worry about me!" She took a deep breath to calm herself. Raoul was peering at her with sadness in his clear, blue eyes. Mustering up her most convincing, serious expression, she stated in a slow, deliberate tone, "Raoul, listen to me because I'm not saying this again. If I find you snooping around in any mafia business again, the Phantom will be the least of your worries."

She stood silhouetted by the blue purple darkness of the city, pinpricks of light from the windows illuminating her figure. Her business skirt fluttered in the breeze as she balled her delicate hands into fists at her sides. The nighttime wind swept her long, curly dark hair in front of her face for a moment, obscuring the gleam of deadly confidence in her eyes.

When he finally found his voice, Raoul managed hurriedly, "Christine, if you'd just trust me, I can fix everything. There are plenty of good cops willing to-"

"Did I ask for your help?" She replied in cool impatience as she crossed her arms. She glared at him with a hint of irritation at his persistence. "The police in this city are incompetent and lazy. They answer to no one, and that makes them even more dangerous than the mafia. If I placed my trust in them to get the job done, nothing would change. The city would sink into the chaos created when people fight for leadership."

"So you've made your choice." Raoul sighed.

"These people have to believe in me. Their only other options are Carlotta and Firmin, neither of whom are very good leaders to follow." Christine glanced up at the darkened sky, the light of the stars overwhelmed by the glow from the city. "I plan to protect this way of life with all my power. They've have chosen to forge their own path rather than blindly hope for your system to save them."

Nadir stepped out of the shadowy doorway to call, "Christine, Erik's getting antsy waiting for you. I think he's afraid you're going to run off with the snitch."

Christine nodded to the intimidating, bald man in the crisp suit before casting one last look over her shoulder to Raoul. "I won't hesitate to shoot you next time you force your way into Madame Giry's. Good night, Officer."

Sweeping passed Nadir, who held the door open for her politely, Christine returned to the warmth of the nightclub. It was so strange to feel eyes on her from all around the room, but she hid her nervousness behind the mask of coolness she had picked up from observing Erik at work.

While Erik was waiting for Christine to return, Madame Giry walked over with a drink in one hand and placed it on the table in front of him. "Long night, Erik?"

"Something like that." He glanced up at her slowly before twisting the glass around between his hands. Taking a swig of the liquid, he closed his eyes as the alcohol burnt down his throat. "I'll never understand women, Giry. You're a strange lot."

"Well, they do call it the feminine mystique for a reason," the older woman laughed. She grew quiet and solemn after a moment when Erik failed to respond. "Erik, you do know this has to stop. She will not marry for love. No one marries for love in this world."

A ragged sigh escaped his lips and he locked eyes with her, his hand clenching around the glass tumbler. "I can't leave her alone. She asked me to stay with her."

"No, by all means, stay near her. She needs your guidance, especially now when everything is so new to her. But what she needs is your cunning. Your mind. Not your heart. That will only hurt the both of you."

"It's a little late for that," he ground out, gulping down the remainder of his drink and holding out the glass.

"You knew this was coming, Erik." Giry took the empty glass in her hands. "You have nothing to offer her. The people in her group will expect her to marry for connections. Power and money."

"That's the name of the game," he stated in a clipped tone and glared at her. "I'm well aware of where I stand in this world. The only thing I have to offer is my ability to inspire fear in others. I am her teacher, her mentor."

"And nothing more." Madame Giry added, meeting his gaze without hesitation. He nodded, but remained silent. That seemed to appease the older woman, who returned the gesture and walked back to the bar to deposit the empty glass.

A few minutes later, Christine found Erik slumped low in his seat, one hand propping his chin up, while the other rapping against the tabletop repeatedly. The waves of impatience radiating off him cleared the area of all the other customers, leaving him alone to brood. He eyed her as she sat down next to him. "Well?"

"He's an undercover cop." Christine stated as she took a sip from his new glass on the table and winced. "Ugh. I don't know what that is and I don't want to know."

"He's a WHAT?"

Christine turned her head to meet his eyes without flinching. "Raoul is an undercover police officer. Next time you see him snooping around, feel free to do what you think is best. I've given him plenty of warnings."

She nudged the glass of foul tasting alcohol toward him and said, "I trust you. I wish the idiot would just leave this whole thing alone."

Nadir stood against a nearby wall, fiddling with his tie when Christine waved him closer. "Can you go find Meg? I need to talk to you two."

Erik watched Nadir walk away. "What's going on?"

She smiled at him. "A mini-conference with all my trusted friends. Luckily, you're all more experienced in this world than I am, so I can run my plan by you guys before putting it into action."

"Plan?" He repeated slowly, as if trying to understand too much at once. She gave him an amused look and slipped her hand into his on the table.

"You must be tired, you're not keeping up today. Don't worry, we can go get a hotel room after this." She assured him before quirking an eyebrow and playfully nudging him in the ribs. "Might not get much sleep though."

Her teasing caused him to tense in his seat, a frown forming on his lips. Before he could reply, Meg rushed over, her long, black dress swishing around her ankles as she ran ahead of Nadir. Her blonde hair flew forward over her shoulders as she halted abruptly in front of their table. "You called, Boss-lady?"

Grinning, Christine reached over to slap the seat of a chair near her decisively. "Join us over here at the cool people table, hot stuff. I got an offer you can't refuse."

"Oooo," Meg slid into the seat, hands cupping her face in exaggerated fear. "Whatever am I to do? A lamb among wolves!"

"I'll treat you well, baby. Show you a good time," Christine leered at her until Nadir finally reached the table. Erik shook his head tiredly at the other man.

"They've gone crazy." He sighed and rubbed his left temple as if a headache was coming on.

"I guess their youthful antics would confuse someone-"

Erik's sharp glare shut Nadir's mouth quickly. "Finish that sentence, Persian. See what happens."

"Enough, enough, it was just a joke," Christine gestured toward another chair and Nadir took his seat. She leaned forward to fold her hands on the table. "I plan to have a small show of power to commemorate my entry into this pleasant underworld."

"What're you thinking of doing?" Meg asked, her amused expression losing some of its humor as the conversation turned to business. "Nothing too dangerous, I hope."

"It's only as dangerous as my guests want it to be," Christine said carefully, a twinge of pain radiating up from her healing wound on her side. "A gala. Or party. Dinner thing, you know? Extravagant as I can afford, full of my people. A harmless show of money and manpower. I can deliver personal invitations to all the heads of the area. If they refuse, it will reflect badly upon them."

There was a short silence as they considered her statement. Erik spoke first, gruffly serious. "The idea isn't bad. But you have people to handle the details of those things. Hand delivering the invitations yourself is out of the question. You're above that now."

"Then I'll try to get a hold of a secretary tomorrow…" she glanced at Nadir hopefully. "I do have a secretary, right?"

"Yes, Boss." Nadir nodded. "If you want, I can talk to her myself and give her the low-down."

"But-"

Erik held out a hand, cutting her off. "You have to get used to delegating these things. The number of people waiting at your beck and call is absurd. Give the poor bastards something to do."

She grew silent for a moment as she thought over the idea. Nodding, she asked, "Will you all be there if I do this?"

Without realizing it, Christine's hand strayed to the wound on her side. The only one close enough to notice the movement was Erik, who felt a watched the self-conscious gesture with a pang of sympathy and regret. If he had been faster, more attentive, she wouldn't have been injured by the hitman. Meg spoke up enthusiastically. "Of course we'll go to your little coronation party. Any reason to dress up, right?"

"Personally, I think I look horrible in dresses and heels." Nadir commented idly, shrugging his shoulders. "I'll just leave that to you fine, young ladies."

"You're gross, Nadir," Meg laughed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. While they joked about who was going to wear nylons to the party, Christine turned to Erik quietly and slipped her hand into his under the table. This shocked him out of his thoughts.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, concern furrowing her brow. He gazed at her for a moment, longing and sadness written on his face before a shield of indifference dropped over him and he shook his hand free from hers.

"I'm going home." He stood abruptly, surprising Meg and Nadir from their playful banter. They scooted back out of his way as he strode passed them toward the exit. Christine pursed her lips into a frown as she nearly leapt over them to catch up. She grabbed his arm just as he got outside of the club. He glanced over his shoulder, that unnerving look of cool he normally used in business dealings hiding his expression.

"Don't leave yet," she complained, trying to wrap her arms around his waist. He stepped back out of reach and she jolted. Reaching out her hand to him, she said simply, "Why are you being this way? I want you, Erik."

If not for the slight clenching of his fists, she would have thought him completely unmoved by the statement. He arched an eyebrow at her. "Christine, you shouldn't be seen with me from now on. Socially, we're in completely different circles."

"Oh?" She asked, heart beating fast as it struggled to stay afloat in the waves of anger and depression surging through her. "So, you're not coming back to the club after tonight?"

He nodded slowly. "You'll get by without me. You're a very resourceful woman. And if there's an emergency or you need help, Nadir knows how to contact me."

Her throat constricted painfully as she fought the tears that sprung to her eyes. "I guess this shouldn't surprise me. It seemed like I was the only one who felt anything between us. Stupid, little Christine, thinks she's so special, right? Just an annoying kid tugging at your sleeve."

When he stood in place like an emotionless statue, her sadness exploded into anger. "Fine! Whatever, Erik, I'm tired of chasing you all the time! If I want to kiss, I'm the one who has to grab your tie and force my tongue down your throat. If I want you to look at me, I have to throw myself in front of an assassin!"

"Christine, I have to leave now. Go back into the club where it's safe." His level tone revealed only a polite concern for her wellbeing.

"Rrrgh!" She strangled the air in front of her as if it were his neck before spinning on her heel to charge back into the nightclub. She shoved the door open so violently it knocked into a customer who was standing too close to the entrance and he spun around angrily. When he saw Christine glare back at him with the promise of death in her eyes, he quickly backed down and scurried away.

Nadir and Meg watched her stomp back toward them alone, knowing Erik had messed things up again. Christine immediately launched into an uncontrollable tirade, waving her hands in angry gestures. "I don't get that guy! Is there something wrong with me?! Am I fucking leper or something? What the hell is up with all his goddamned mood swings?"

"I take it Erik left." Meg ventured cautiously. "What did he have to do?"

Christine laughed once, harshly. "Who knows! What does he usually do when he's on his man-period?! Probably had to go sit in his room alone and cry like a little girl! Oh no, looks like Erik's upset again! He's gonna take all the hotness and go home!"

"Ouch." Nadir winced, his manly pride taking the hit since Erik wasn't present. "Hey, there's still hotness around."

Christine waved at him impatiently. "Yeah, sure, but you're bald-man hot. Erik's mysterious hot."

"I'm just saying, look what you get when you ask for mysterious. The crazy son of a bitch who can kill people with every kitchen appliance ever made, but doesn't know why holding hands with a girl makes him all tingly inside." Nadir stated. "38 years old, Christine, and still a virgin. I'm just saying. That's not normal."

"When you finally get around to having sex, you should totally charge him twice," Meg pointed out, her prostitute knowledge abound. "Once for him and once for the huge emotional baggage he's got dragging around behind him."

She stood up and placed gentle hands on Christine's shoulders, leading her toward the stairs. She and Nadir had noticed the attention Christine's ranting was starting to attract from the busy club. "Come on, let's go upstairs. I can brush your hair and I'll let you listen to that funny song, I Touch Myself. You know the one. And guess what's going to be on tonight? That Thing You Do. It's a good movie. You'll like it."

Christine's angry expression slowly relaxed as Meg walked with her upstairs. "Meg, what if he won't come to the party? I don't think I could handle this on my own."

Her hand started to tremble and her shoulders slumped as the weight of her new position suddenly hit her. It was cruel of Erik to take away one of the only comforts Christine had left in her life, but Meg knew that Christine would endure. This was a good exercise in self-reliance, even if it was completely unnecessary in her opinion. "You're not alone, Christine. Just focus on what you need to do. The rest will fall into place."

As Meg watched Christine enter their bedroom, she wondered if Erik and Christine would ever settle into a stable relationship. All she wanted was for her friend to be happy.